


Illusions

by bakedgoldfish



Category: The West Wing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-21
Updated: 2003-02-21
Packaged: 2019-05-15 05:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14784488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakedgoldfish/pseuds/bakedgoldfish
Summary: It was hero worship wrapped in an illusion of companionship.





	Illusions

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Illusions**

**by:** Baked Goldfish 

**Category:** Leofic  
**Rating:** CHILD  
**Summary:** It was hero worship wrapped in an illusion of companionship.  
**Disclaimer:** Warner Bros. owns TWW.  Paul Simon owns "The Teacher" (but WB owns Paul Simon ... ).  I don't even own a good pair of socks.  Don't sue me, please.  
**A/N:** This is kinda songfic, but only a few lines are used (the stuff in parentheses). 

He would have no place to go. 

>   
>  __
> 
> (Gather your goods and follow me.) 

In a year, or five, he would be back on the lecture circuit; before, he had a family.  He had a home to go to when the lectures were said and done. 

He told Josh, "My wife lives in my house.  I live in a hotel."  He had gathered a select few to take the road with them, and they had followed his messiah to the fields, to the stars, but for it he had given up the family life he'd known for thirty-plus years.  He would have no place to go, really, when it was all said and done.  

(We followed as followers go.) 

In five years, because he didn't believe they would lose, couldn't believe it, in five years, he would have nothing but his money.  He had politics in his blood; he would stay in Washington, but he was more naive than his peers, no matter what it seemed.  He had thought he had found the real thing. 

He had thought ... but then, he was more naive than his peers. 

(Deeper and deeper, the dreamer of love sleeps on a quilt of stars.) 

He had thought the man to be invincible.  Flawless, except for the incessant need to show off the abundance of knowledge he had ... and even that was flawless, to some ... Leo had put him on a pedestal.  To many, it seemed as if Leo were the one in the lead; in reality, he only did what Bartlet told him.  He was a flawed man, unlike his visions, chipped away in hidden places and torn on the inside.  

His vision, it turned out, was as flawed as he was. 

>   
>  __
> 
> (Time and abundance thickened his step, so the teacher divided in two.)

And he was still there, on that pedestal, though he'd been proven to be just as mortal and flawed as the next man.  He stood above Leo, silhouetted and haloed, a broken angel; the remnants of his soul refracted the light of the cameras and fame into spears of white and blue, fanning out around him like smokeless fire.  There were two men now: the perfect, higher Bartlet, and the less visible, less perfect one. 

But in Leo's flawed mind, Bartlet was still flawless: sensitive, lacking armor, yes, but still that perfect, hazy image formed years ago when looking up from a motel parking lot.  He now saw the pieces of this man, the disease of his mind and the disease of his soul, but he was still blind to his flaws.  It was hero worship wrapped in an illusion of companionship.  And, it was his last full measure of devotion; after this job, everything else would pale in comparison.  

He would try to put the jagged pieces like a jigsaw puzzle back together, unaware of the missing parts.  And in the end, if he couldn't- 

-end- 


End file.
